


No-One Mourns the Broken

by TheTricksterStoleMyShoe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Evil Lucifer, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Law Student Sam, Lucifer being creepy, M/M, Past Torture, Sabriel Big Bang 2016, Torture, abuse is in past, creepy ex-boyfriend, detective gabriel, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10055600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTricksterStoleMyShoe/pseuds/TheTricksterStoleMyShoe
Summary: Contrary to what his best friend Charlie thinks, Sam is perfectly fine. He’s definitely not still messed up from his previous relationship and it’s definitely not bleeding into his everyday life. In fact, his everyday life is going great. He’s in law school, he has a decent job and a shared apartment with cool people. He’s even met a cute police investigator called Gabriel who, against all odds, seems interested in him.Of course, he wouldn’t be a Winchester if something didn’t come along and f**k it all up. And he wouldn’t be Sam Winchester if that something wasn’t as absurd and horrifying as a serial killer, a killer that seems to be connected to him. . .





	

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I'm a day late *hangs head in shame* and I'm very, very sorry about that! This is my first big bang and I was hoping to make a good impression but I guess that didn't work out. Since I'm running late, I'm posting the whole thing in one big chapter but hopefully I'll be able to fix that soon.
> 
> Secondly, a massive thank you to my artist, Jini (@trekchik), who did such a fantastic job with the graphic for this fic :) 
> 
> Thirdly, there are potentially triggering things in this fic with regards to abusive and manipulative relationships, as well as outright torture. If you would like more explicit warnings, or if you have any concerns, please feel free to contact me via my tumblr (@thetricksterstolemyshoe) or my email (hollycbradbury@gmail.com).

[](http://imgur.com/RRDFA6j)

**** Sam was wiping down the bar. He had been wiping down the bar for the past thirty minutes. It had been a slow night, but that wasn’t really an excuse for the way he’d been watching the carefully stained rag move in neat circles across the polished wood for almost half an hour. And he wasn’t drunk either. Or on drugs. Well, unless you counted caffeine. He’d not slept in a couple days- maybe that was it. He was running on fumes and coffee. 

This happened every time he saw his ex. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep- he did. He knew that he should. After all, he was in his final years of law school and he couldn’t afford to fuck it up now. Not after everything he’d done and sacrificed to get here.  But seeing Lucifer got him so. . . Buzzed. Every time. Even when they were together, it had been like taking a drug. There had always been an air of danger to Lucifer and Sam had always known that it would end badly. But a lot of him hadn’t cared. Lucifer was. . . Intoxicating. And hard to argue with. He was attractive and charming and silver-tongued and manipulative and every single thing that Sam fell for every damn time. 

Their break up had been bad. Messy. It had taken Sam several weeks to convince himself that he was serious, several months to convince Lucifer. Every time he brought it up, Lucifer would pull out a new reason why Sam should stay. It wasn’t so much promises that things would change, although those did feature. Lucifer just got under his skin, sent hundreds of niggling doubts about whether he was making the right choice, wriggling through Sam. He always said exactly the right thing. Or, the wrong thing, depending on your perspective. 

Then, there had been the first time he properly left. He just walked out, leaving Lucifer alone in their apartment. But he hadn’t had anywhere to go and soon Lucifer had called him and Sam had gone right back. Lucifer had been so angry. . . Sam shivered at the memory and rubbed his chest absent-mindedly. When Lucifer got mad, bad things happened.  There was something intimidating about him, something insidiously threatening that always curled at the back of Sam’s mind. It was the same darkness that drew him to Lucifer that eventually repelled him. After a long and uncomfortable conversation with Charlie, his best friend, in which she pointed out that feeling threatened by your boyfriend and manipulated into staying every time you try to leave are not the hallmarks of a healthy relationship. She’d given him a rather enthusiastic pep talk, along with the promise of a place to stay, and he’d finally ended it with Lucifer. He’d moved out and moved on. 

Well, he moved out anyway. 

It didn’t help that he was stuck at law school for the next couple of years, which Lucifer knew. And that occasionally Lucifer would drop by to ‘see how things were going’. Sam had tried once to get him to stop, but Lucifer used a guilt trip and somehow managed to make Sam feel so guilty that he never tried again. It was better than before. And normally, he could deal with an encounter with Lucifer. Sometimes, he even looked forward to them. No-one else could quite bring that rush of adrenaline and misplaced fear. Not fear, not that strong. Just. . . Unease.  He didn’t want to think about that rush. Sighing, Sam turned the bar rag over and started doing his circles anti-clockwise. He wondered idly if anyone would notice. 

Obviously not. 

The meeting with Lucifer a couple of days ago had been more intense than usual. Lucifer had accosted him outside his new shared apartment- which Sam had not given him the address of- and attempted to get Sam to come back to him. Sam was pretty sure he was drunk- he reeked of whisky and was saying things about how they were ‘made for each other’ and that he’d been waiting for Sam his whole life.  It had taken a surprising amount of willpower not to roll over and let Lucifer kiss him against the wall. But, at the same time, the thought of doing that brought such a wave of immediate revulsion that Sam knew he’d made the right call. He always knew that when Lucifer wasn’t there- it was just hard to reach that conviction when he was present. 

Charlie thought he needed to get back on the horse. It had been a few months since they’d split and Sam hadn’t been on one date. While Sam was perfectly happy with taking things slow, Charlie considered this a sacrilege. She’d even taken him to a charity function that her girlfriend, Jo, had helped plan to do with sexual health and reproductive rights. Sam had grudgingly gone, but he hadn’t really talked to anyone and he certainly didn’t pick up a date. Charlie had been aghast. As she put it: “If you cannot score at a reproductive rights function, then you simply cannot score.”

Charlie was a good friend. He’d met her working in the library when he was still pre-law at Stanford and she was doing her degree in video game design. They’d clicked and she was now one of the best friends that Sam had ever had, even if she could be a little meddlesome. She’d finished her degree and was now working in a small start-up as a head developer and the company was experiencing great success. He was proud of her, if a little jealous that she got to move on and live her life while he was stuck studying and working 24/7. But he knew it would be worth it in the end.

Someone cleared their throat, and Sam looked up to see a young man in a suit perched on a bar stool. The first thing that struck Sam was the unusual amber colour of his eyes. He was looking at Sam and smiling slightly, one corner of his mouth turned up in an expression that was too bright and friendly to be a smirk. Sam felt his mouth go a little dry, but he managed to take the man’s order and mix his drink (the man ordered one of the sweetest and most complicated cocktails on their list) without messing up. _You see attractive men all the time. Get it together, Winchester._ He turned around and started pretending to examine his stock, but he imagined he could feel the eyes of the man staring at his back. He definitely wasn’t a regular, although he did look familiar. Perhaps he had come in a few months ago and Sam had simply forgotten. He did see a lot of faces. Not many like that though. When Sam next turned, the man was idly playing with the umbrella in his cocktail and staring into the bar. Sam swallowed and moved closer, “You alright?”

 

The man looked up and smiled tiredly, “Long day,”

 

Sam put his elbows on the bar, “I know how you feel. You wanna talk about it?”

 

The man shrugged, “Not really. But how about you? Boring night?”

 

“Kinda. What gave it away?”

 

“This bar is way too polished for a joint like this. And it’s not new so that means someone’s been cleaning it in a way that borders on obsessive.”

 

“Smart,” said Sam.

 

The man grinned, “I’m Gabriel by the way.”

 

“Sam. Nice to meet you.” After a second, Sam asked, “But seriously, how’d you figure that out? You a detective or something?”

 

Gabriel shrugged, “I am actually. Or, at least, I just became one.”

 

Sam studied the man thoughtfully, he could only be in his mid-twenties, “You’re quite young to be a detective.”

 

Gabriel stirred his cocktail thoughtfully, “Yes. I’m not sure I’m allowed to say why, but let’s just say I have a knack for the work.”

 

Sam leaned in closer, “I’m intrigued. . .”

 

“I’m not that intriguing.”

 

Sam registered another customer at the opposite end of the bar. He expertly flipped his rag over his shoulder and winked at Gabriel, before going over to serve the other man, a regular at the bar by the name of Benny. 

The bar livened up a little and Sam didn’t get a chance to talk to Gabriel properly again, but he did manage to get the guy’s number. He took it as a good sign when Gabriel drew a little heart in the bottom left corner of the napkin he’d scribbled the digits on.

_Well, Charlie, I’m getting back on the horse._

To be perfectly honest though, this wasn’t for her. This was for him. Sam knew he was still pretty messed up from Lucifer and he was perfectly happy being single. But Gabriel was something new and different and had the kind of effect on Sam that meant he felt a tiny shock run up his arm when their hands brushed. No-one had produced that reaction from him in what felt like forever. Not since Lucifer anyway. But even Lucifer had been different again. Those tiny shocks had been mixed with an edge of wrong, something that had simultaneously attracted and repelled Sam. Gabriel was different in that Sam felt. . . Safe. And maybe that was a weird thing to think about a guy you just met, but Sam had spent enough time around dark to know light when he saw it, and Gabriel was light.

Sam took a totally professional and manly moment to think about how pleasantly warm and rough Gabriel’s hand had been.

  
  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  
  


When Gabriel left the bar, he stopped just outside and, in the light of a street-lamp, put Sam’s number into his phone. There was no way he was losing that. He also made a mental note to thank Charlie for telling him where her hot friend worked and for confirming his raging homosexuality. She truly was like a dating service for the non-straight people in this town. And he, for one, was exceptionally grateful to have picked an apartment in the same building as her. 

If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t just have spent an evening watching the most attractive six-foot moose man he’d ever seen. It was possibly creepy to not have mentioned Charlie, but he knew from her constant complaining that Sam was impossible to set up with anyone, and he didn’t want to ruin his chances with the very attractive man by making him think it was just another of Charlie’s schemes. Gabriel decided that he’d slip it into conversation later. Preferably, there’d be a later.

The next day, he texted Sam. And miracle of miracles, Sam texted back. In what was possibly the longest string of miracles Gabriel had ever experienced, they arranged to have coffee on Saturday morning.

Work went slowly that week. It was mostly filled with paperwork, which Gabriel wished that he’d been warned about before he went into the job. Where were the procedural cop shows filled with hours upon hours of police officers stuck inside filling out forms? Although, he supposed it wouldn’t make for very entertaining watching- it certainly didn’t make for entertaining doing. He was also grateful for the slow week in a way because it allowed him to devote his full attention to the thought of Sam. A new case would have distracted him for sure- he never could leave a problem alone until it was solved.

  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  


Sam spent a good hour getting ready to meet Gabriel. In his head, he knew it was just coffee. Just coffee. They weren’t going somewhere fancy, plus Gabriel wasn’t exactly giving off fashionista vibes. But still. He eventually decided on plaid, because you couldn’t go wrong with a good plaid button down and t-shirt. 

When he got to the coffee shop, a little place near the park that Gabriel had suggested, Gabriel was already there, chatting to the waitress, a woman with shoulder-length auburn hair. When Sam approached, Gabriel waved and introduced the woman as his sister, Anna. Sam shook her hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Sam.”

Anna smiled warmly, “Yeah, okay I approve.”

Sam sat down and looked at Gabriel, “She approves? Do all your dates have to be checked by your sister?”

Gabriel went a little bit pink, but laughed, “She likes it that way.”

Sam was so busy congratulating himself on slipping the word date into his sentence that it took him a minute to catch up to the conversation, “Your sister seems pretty cool.”

Gabriel shrugged, “Anna’s a bit strong-willed, but we love her. She’s the younger one, but she always wants to look out for us.”

“My older brother’s a bit like that. He acts more like a father than a brother sometimes.”  

“Anna’s the same, she’s the youngest of all of us, but she acts like the mother of the family.”

“All of us? How many siblings do you have?”

Gabriel made a show of counting on his fingers, “Three, Anna, Cas and Raphael.”

“Cas and Raphael? Those are quite unusual names. . .”

“My father was a little eccentric.”

Sam hoped he hadn’t offended Gabriel, “I just meant you don’t hear them a lot. They’re good names. I didn’t mean-”

Gabriel fixed him with a look, “Sam. It’s fine. I’m not offended or whatever so you can stop looking so panicked.”

Sam felt the blood rush to his face and he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I was looking panicked?”

“You looked like a rabbit in headlights.” Thankfully, Sam was saved from further embarrassment (although Gabriel didn’t seem to mind his awkwardness, judging from the vaguely fond smile he was getting) by Anna arriving to take their order. Sam got regular coffee, while Gabriel went for the salted caramel hot chocolate. When Anna left, Gabriel looked very seriously at Sam and said, “One thing you should know about me is that my sweet tooth is about a mile wide. Be warned.”

“Okay,” Sam laughed.

They spent the rest of the morning in easy conversation and it seemed very natural to continue their date with a walk in the park when they had both finished their coffees. It was a nice day for once, the sun was out and was shining through the trees in a way that made the park feel fresh and bright. Sam and Gabriel walked along the light-speckled path, Sam gesticulating wildly as he told Gabriel about his God-awful International Law professor, who insisted on setting ridiculously long papers with ridiculously short deadlines, on areas of the course they hadn’t covered yet. It was apparently meant to test their research skills, but all it had done was introduce about eight million tonnes of stress into Sam’s life that he didn’t need, thank you very much. In turn, Gabriel told Sam about his junior detective, a stick of a man named Garth, who had to show his badge more times than anyone else on the force because he looked more like he should work with puppies rather than criminals. Gabriel got on with him though, they’d bonded over a shared love of dogs, and it was always fun to watch Garth get unforgivably drunk after just one beer.

They stopped at a bench and sat down. After a couple of moments of companionable silence, Gabriel said, “It’s a nice place, this park. I take my dog down here most evenings after work.”

Sam perked up, “You have a dog?”

Gabriel nodded, “He’s a German Shepherd, ex-police dog.”

“Ex?”

“Unfortunately, his previous handler didn’t take care of him right and sent him into a dangerous situation that he wasn’t trained for, and even if he was, it was too risky for a dog anyway. Maxy suffered a nervous breakdown and wouldn’t respond to anyone for a while. They were gonna put him down so I adopted him.”

Sam knew he was probably looking at Gabriel with the sappiest face in the world, but he didn’t care because he thought he might just have fallen in love a teensy bit with this man, “That’s amazing. How’s he doing now?”

Gabriel smiled fondly, clearly, he loved his dog, “He’s great. Still not totally comfortable with strangers, but he trusts me, so if I’m there then he’s alright. Never thought I’d grow so attached to a dog, but it happened.”

Sam nodded, “I’ve never had a dog. Always wanted one, though I’m not sure it’ll happen.”

“Why not?”

“Well. . . You know, I’m in law school and I’m gonna be a lawyer, which means long hours and a bunch of weird working days and I just don’t think I’d have the time to look after a dog properly.”

Gabriel looked at him sideways, “Well maybe someday you’ll live with someone who can take care of it for you.”

Sam smiled, “Maybe.”

They sat there for a while longer and talked. It was with reluctance that they parted at midday, with promises to do the same thing next week. Or, as Gabriel hinted, maybe something a little different. Sam didn’t know what he meant, but he did know that spending those few hours with Gabriel had been possibly the best first date he’d ever had, certainly the most fun he’d had in months.

All in all, it looked as though things were looking up.

  
  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  
  


It turns out that Sam has exactly no luck left because when he gets back to his apartment block, there’s someone waiting for him. Lucifer. He’s leaning against the railing outside the building. His leather jacket is worn and beaten, but it clings to his body in ways that used to make Sam hot. Now, the memory of that makes him feel vaguely sick. 

Sam saw him there when he was still a few hundred feet away, but he couldn’t just turn round again because Lucifer had already seen him, was already watching him with piercing blue eyes. Besides, all his books and his laptop were in there, and he had a paper to write. There was no way that Lucifer was scaring him away from his own home.

Sam swallowed and marched up to the door, fully intending to completely ignore Lucifer. But when he started up the steps, Lucifer swung his body out gracefully to block the path. Lucifer was shorter than him normally, but stood on the steps, he had a couple of inches on Sam. Lucifer is intimidating when Sam can look down on him, but looking up makes Sam feel something like fear. It’s not that Lucifer’s explicitly threatening in any way, nothing like that. It’s the small things, his eyes just the wrong side of intense and his mouth set in the line that Sam knows means he’s angry. Really angry.

Sam went to speak, but Lucifer got there first, “Sammy.”

Sam gripped the railing on his right side tightly, grounding himself, “Don’t call me that.”

“You didn’t have a problem before.”

“But I have a problem now. And that problem is that we broke up. And you’re still here.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and Sam felt his stomach go to liquid, “What did you just say to me?”

Sam swallowed and changed tack, “Lucifer, I need to get inside. We can do this another time.”

Lucifer pressed himself a little closer and Sam took a step back, “I don’t think so. Not with that new boyfriend of yours.”

Sam felt himself go cold. How did Lucifer know about that? It had been one date. He stared at his ex-boyfriend, “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you with him. Don’t lie to me, Sammy, I always know when you’re lying. You remember what used to happen when you lied to me?”

Sam does remember. He goes to push past Lucifer but the man catches his wrist in a familiar crushing grip. Sam can’t help but whimper slightly at the memories the feeling brings back. Lucifer looks pleased with the reaction and leans in close to whisper in Sam’s ear, “Even if you try to move on, you know you can’t. You know it won’t be the same, you’ll never find what we had again. Never. We’re made for each other, Sammy, perfect together. You need me and even if you pretend you don’t you know it.” Lucifer released his wrist and said, in a voice filled with total conviction, “You will come back to me, Sam. You always do.”

Then, he left, strolling down the street with his hands in his pockets as if he hadn’t just broken Sam apart into sharp little pieces. Sam was still gripping the railing and he focused on that, on the cold solidness of the iron bar beneath his fingers. He waited until he felt steady, then let himself into the building and went up to his apartment.

He shared the apartment with two other guys, Ash and Kevin. Kevin was at law school with Sam. No-one really knew what Ash did, although his room was covered in piles of paper and bits of computer, so Sam assumed it was something clever and hopefully legal. He always paid the rent on time and he was a perfect house-mate, so Sam didn’t ask.

Thankfully, neither of them were home. Sam still felt oddly shaky from that encounter with Lucifer and he wondered if he’d have to look into getting a restraining order. It felt a bit extreme, but it might be worth it if he continued to hang out around his home. He couldn’t move on with his life if Lucifer met him at every turn.

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  


Over the next few weeks, Sam and Gabriel continued to date. They didn’t move particularly quickly, but with Gabriel, Sam felt more relaxed and comfortable than he could ever remember feeling. The only problem was when Gabriel wasn’t there, when Sam would wake up in a pool of sweat with the ghost of Lucifer standing over him with those awful blue eyes. But that was at night, when Sam was less sure of himself. In the day, when he was either with Gabriel or thinking about his next date with him, life was good. He had moments where he was definitely happy, the kind of happy that makes you want to sing along to the radio and dance around while you’re getting dressed. Not that Sam would do that, because it would be totally unbecoming of a future lawyer to break out the moves with his shirt only half on. . .

Mind you, Gabriel certainly seemed to appreciate his dancing. For their third date, they’d gone to Gabriel’s salsa dancing class (of course Gabriel did salsa) and although Sam had been a little clumsy at first, he soon got the hang of it. He still wasn’t a patch on Gabriel- the man was a surprisingly strong, graceful dancer. Of course, dancing had meant that Sam got to feel Gabriel’s warm, pleasantly rough hands grasping his and he’d felt a loose ball of warmth in his stomach from the contact.

After the class had finished, Gabriel had practically dragged Sam down the hall and into an empty closet. But where Lucifer would have kissed him rough and demanding against the wall, Gabriel just moved a little closer, put his hands on Sam’s shoulders and stood on tiptoes so their faces were just inches apart. Sam had been caught by Gabriel’s eyes, glowing gold even in the dim light and he’d almost missed it when Gabriel had whispered, “Can I kiss you now?”

Instead of answering, Sam closed the space between them and met Gabriel’s lips with his. All thoughts of Lucifer were pushed from his mind, save a vague notion that this was infinitely better. Sure, Lucifer had been a thrill, but this warm tingling that spread through him at every touch of Gabriel’s hands, every press of his lips and tongue, this was everything. He’d never felt anything like it. They didn’t go any further than enthusiastic kissing (they were in a closet at a community college for Christ’s sakes) but Sam knew then that he would have done in different circumstances. He wondered if he should feel worried at the depth of trust he had in a man he’d really only just met, but he felt so safe with Gabriel that it didn’t really matter.

They walked to the parking lot holding hands.

  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


The Wednesday after the salsa dancing class, Charlie came into the bar where Sam was having an animated conversation with Gabriel, who had come in after work. Charlie slid into the bar stool beside Gabriel and winked at Sam, “Hey boys, how’s it going?”

“Hey Charlie,” said Sam and Gabriel at the same time.

Then Sam looked at Gabriel, “Wait. . . How’d you know Charlie?”

Charlie crossed her legs elegantly, “He lives in the apartment below me. I mean, I am the one who set you guys up.”

Sam glowered at Charlie, “I told you to stop doing that.”

Charlie gestured to them, “You looked happy when I came in.”

“Well, yeah, but. . .”

Charlie shook her head, “But nothing, Sam. Oh, and you’re welcome, by the way.”

Gabriel looked at Sam sheepishly, “I was gonna mention it, I promise. I didn’t want you to not give me a chance because you thought you were just being set up.”

“Oh I don’t blame you,” said Sam, pointing his finger at Charlie, “All evildoing is hers.”

Charlie put her hands up in fake surrender, “That’s me!”

The bar was quiet that night and they managed to carry on quite a good conversation. Admittedly, Sam was a little weirded out that Gabriel had known Charlie but not said anything. It seemed like a secret, even though it wasn’t. It wasn’t as if Gabriel was required to provide Sam with a list of his friends or anything. He supposed he was just paranoid after his previous relationship.

But, as the evening wore on, Sam found himself feeling happy that Charlie knew Gabriel. Because, even if she was annoying and interfering, he trusted her judge of character, and if Charlie had known and liked Gabriel for years, then that meant that Sam could trust his own instincts with Gabriel. And his instincts had been telling him to grab onto Gabriel and never let go.  

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  


Gabriel was happy with Sam. He’d never been this happy, in fact. Not for this long or with the same person. He was notoriously fickle in terms of relationships, but Sam seemed to be different and he was taking that as a very good sign. Of course, Gabriel’s life was such that any string of happiness had to be broken by disaster. And that disaster came in the form of a wet Tuesday morning in September, when he was assigned to a homicide at the university. Of course, when he learned that the victim was a lecturer at the law school, his thoughts immediately went to Sam, but he pushed those aside. He couldn’t let his personal feelings into his work life. This had nothing to do with Sam, and linking them would only impede his investigational skills.

He arrived on the scene as quickly as possible. The entire corridor was cordoned off, but the actual crime scene was in the lecture hall. And it was not a pretty sight. The dead professor, by the name of Richard Morrison, was hanging from the ceiling, a noose around his neck. Blood had soaked the front of the man’s shirt which was hanging open over a serious stab wound.

Gabriel considered the body a moment and turned to the head of the forensic team, Mr Singer, “Time of death?”

Singer squinted at the deceased Professor Morrison, “We’re looking at around five hours tops, but we’ll have to wait for the full autopsy to get full details.”

“How long?”

Singer thought for a second, “A murder like this? We’ll push it through, it’ll take maybe three hours from when we take the body down. You want the body down or left up?”

“Give me ten minutes, then take it down and send it for the autopsy. This building is busy, but it ain’t that busy. Universities are closed communities- if we get the time of death, we figure out who was here that weren’t supposed to be and then we get the murderer.”

“You sure it’s a murder,” asked Singer, “Could be suicide.”

Gabriel shook his head, “You see that stab wound?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s ragged around the edges, rough. He was struggling when the weapon went in. Besides, do you see the weapon around here anywhere? If he stabbed himself while being hung, he’d have to have a disappearing blade.”

Singer shrugged, muttered something about an icicle, and walked over to where Garth was interviewing some students, leaving Gabriel alone in the classroom. It wouldn’t last long, so he took the chance to survey the scene uninterrupted. First, the body. He’d still been alive when he was stabbed, that much was clear from the wound and the spray of the blood in the area. Except. . . In front of the victim’s hanging body, there was a perfect spray of red over the floor, like someone had spilt paint. All except for one strip of clean ground. Something had blocked the spray.

Gabriel stepped closer to the body, breathing through his mouth and trying not to look the dead professor in the eyes. If he stood in this position, then he was shielding the floor. The blood wouldn’t spray on the floor, it would spray on him. Which meant that this was the exact spot where the killer would have stood to stab the professor. Which raised the question- why go to the trouble of hanging a fully-grown man- who undoubtedly struggled- by the neck, only to stab him in the stomach? Why didn’t the professor make any noise?

Gabriel answered his own question after another examination of the body. The tip of the professor’s tongue had been almost bitten through, a common injury caused when someone was punched under the chin. A punch under the chin also had the common side effect of temporarily knocking the victim out. Gabriel supposed this gave the killer time to secure the noose, while keeping the man incapacitated and, more importantly, silent. He also found thin cuts low on the professor’s neck, almost hidden by the noose, suggesting that a knife or other blade had been held there, perhaps to force the professor to remain silent under threat of having his throat sliced.  

He shouted to his junior detective, Garth, who rushed over immediately. Gabriel didn’t miss how Garth avoided looking at the body entirely, but chose not to say anything- dealing with Garth’s incompatibility with police work could wait for another day. He said, “Garth, note this. The killer left here with blood all over his front. We’re looking for any witnesses who saw someone that fits that, or discarded clothes. Secondly, the killer was strong, probably tall- he knocked out and manhandled a fairly well-built and healthy adult man. On principle, say we’re looking for a male. Oh- and the killer was probably right-handed as well but I don’t suppose that’ll help.”

Garth scribbled on his notebook, “I’ve been talking with students, but nothing’s come up.”

“Great, good job. Call me if you turn something up.”

“Sure thing,” Garth walked away.

Gabriel turned back to the scene. The classroom was neat, all apart from the front row of chairs. A possible sign of struggle? Gabriel went nearer, noting that it appeared as though someone had attempted to tidy up- albeit hastily. A smear of blood found on the back of one of the chairs seemed to confirm that theory. Perhaps if the professor had tried to run, had maybe been pushed into the chairs before being knocked out? Gabriel shook his head. He didn’t have enough information to reconstruct the scene yet. Perhaps if he reviewed what he already knew, something would come up.

Professor Morrison had been seen arriving at the university that morning and had been sighted in the building. His normal routine seemed to be to eat breakfast in his classroom before his first class. He remembered that detail from a conversation he had had with Sam. Apparently, Morrison treated the period before his first class as an unofficial drop-in where students could bring problems, ask questions or beg for extensions on deadlines. Gabriel thought he sounded like a pretty decent teacher, aside from Sam’s complaints about the ridiculous amount of unfairly difficult homework.He had to stop bringing Sam into this. Compartmentalization had never been Gabriel’s strong suit, but he knew with a job like his, he couldn’t afford to let things like this bleed into his personal life. It would affect both his position as

He had to stop bringing Sam into this. Compartmentalization had never been Gabriel’s strong suit, but he knew with a job like his, he couldn’t afford to let things like this bleed into his personal life. It would affect both his position as top investigator, and his growing relationship with Sam. Control. He just needed control.

So. Professor Morrison was in the classroom. He was probably sat behind his desk. Gabriel examined the piece of furniture and found a half-eaten sandwich and some cold coffee left abandoned. Nothing on the desk seemed out of place, however, suggesting that the professor had gotten up from his chair when the killer entered the room. Why would he do that?

If students came to the class regularly before class, he wouldn’t bother to get up. If it was another member of staff, then it was possible that he got up to greet them. It was also possible that it was a stranger who entered the room. And that stranger had to look out of place. No professor knows every student in the university however, so if someone entered looking like a student, he wouldn’t get up. That wouldn’t make sense.

The way Gabriel saw it currently, there were two possibilities. One, the professor recognized the killer. They were either a colleague, or an old enemy perhaps, but either way, Morrison knew who they were and saw fit to get up to meet them. Or option two. A stranger. But not just any stranger, a stranger who looked out of place.

It wasn’t much to go on, suspect-wise, but it was a start.

So. Professor Morrison got up. Then what? Gabriel turned slowly, his eyes scanning every inch of the scene. Then, he saw it. Smudged writing on the whiteboard and-

Yes.

Traces of blue whiteboard pen ink on the back of the dead professor’s jacket. So clearly, at some point, the professor had been backed up against the whiteboard. The writing had been smudged only slightly, leading Gabriel to believe that the professor had been standing relatively still, even as he was pressed against the whiteboard. So he wasn’t trying to run yet, but he was scared. That suggested something threatening about the killer, perhaps the weapon used to stab him had then been revealed. The professor had then probably made a bid for escape, been pushed into the front row of chairs. As he got up, disoriented, the killer punched him under the chin and knocked him out. The noose was then tied and the professor was presumably wakened and forced to stand in the correct place- on a chair, judging by the height of the body. The chair had then been kicked away and the killer had stabbed the professor.

But why stab him then? Morrison would already have been dying.

Gabriel shook his head. It didn’t make sense, which led him to believe that they were dealing with a killer who was decidedly mentally unstable. He hated this kind of case. It made it difficult to apply the system of reason and logic that he was so very fond of. On the other hand, the psychopaths tended to be slightly easier to catch, due to their collective tendency to attempt communication with the cops, or similar attention-grabs to feed their own desires.

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


“Gabriel. I know you’re probably busy with your case, but I need you to call me. I’ve not heard from you in a few days and I’m worried. Call me back.”

Sam tossed his phone onto his desk and sighed. It was three days after he’d turned up to his International Law class to find the entire place a crime scene. He’d been lucky enough to catch Gabriel on his way out of the building, but not lucky enough to miss how upset Gabriel looked. He had an air of intense focus about him, the kind of focus that people adopt when they’re trying not to fall apart by clinging to something else.

His phone rang, making him jump. He picked it up, a relieved smile crossing his face when he saw it was Gabriel, “Gabe?”

“Gabe? That’s new.”At the sound of his boyfriend’s voice, Sam relaxed, “I was trying it out. You like it?”

“It works.”

Gabriel sounded tired, but not worryingly tired. Sam still wanted to be sure though, “You okay?”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, “Yeah. Just. . . I guess you should know that I take cases like this pretty personally. It’s a problem of mine. I just can’t let things go when the stakes are this high.”

“I know, I get it. Your job is important, I know that,” Sam tried to sound as genuine as possible.

“Are you working tonight?” asked Gabriel.

“Yeah, I scored the night shift. I’ll be there until one.”

“Mind if I drop in? I don’t have much time but I’ve been so swamped. . .”

“It’s no problem. The bar isn’t exactly flourishing, it’ll be quiet.”

“Thank god. I’ll see you there, Sam.”

“Alright. Bye Gabe.”

Gabriel hung up. Sam tried not to worry. He would not turn into a hand-wringing mess because his boyfriend was doing an important, if high-pressured job. Gabriel had been a cop for years, he could clearly handle it. If he was honest with himself though, it wasn’t just the effects of the case on Gabriel that was making him uneasy. He just had a strange feeling about the whole thing, like there was something he knew but had forgotten and it was just floating around the edges of his mind like a buoy bobbing in an empty sea.

He pushed aside his misgivings and got up to get ready for work.

His prediction had been correct and the bar was almost empty when Gabriel came in. Sam’s diagnosis from his voice seemed to have also been correct. Gabriel looked tired. He had bags under his eyes and a slight slump to his shoulders. Yet, there was also a steely determination in his eye and a strength in the hand that grasped his drink that reassured Sam. Gabriel might be working hard, but it seemed like that was all. They talked for a while, mostly about Sam- Gabriel seemed keen to distract attention away from himself. Sam supposed it was natural he would want a distraction while working such a consuming case. Speaking of which. . .

“How long do you think you’ll be on this case?” asked Sam, “Or, how long will it be this intense?”

Gabriel shrugged, “Depends on if I solve it. Why?”

Sam looked at Gabriel, turning on his best puppy-dog eyes, “I just miss seeing you, that’s all. And I know this case is more important, I’m not asking you to stop that. I just want to know when it’ll be over.”

“It should calm down. I’d have more time to spare if it weren’t for having to walk my dog twice a day. God that’s exhausting. I love him to pieces but sometimes I wish he could just walk his own self through the park.”

Sam tilted his head to the side, “I could walk him. Forget freeing up date-time, it sounds like you just need a rest full stop.”

“I so want to take you up on that.”

“Then do,” Sam shrugged, “I love dogs. It’s no skin off my nose.”

“I would, but I told you about Maxy’s problem with strangers. He won’t let anyone walk him but me.”

“When and where are you planning on walking him tomorrow?”

“Uhhh, early, about six-ish before I go to work. In that park where we went after we had coffee that first time.”

Sam grinned, “Well, I’ll join you. I go for a run about that time anyway. If Maxy likes me, I’ll walk him for you. If he doesn’t, I’ll find another way to help.”

“You don’t need to, Sam.”

“I told you, I love dogs. And I- I don’t like seeing you so worn out.”

Gabriel looked at Sam with his amber eyes, “Okay. Tomorrow, the park at the crack of dawn. It’s a weird, weird date with my dog as the third wheel.”

“Sounds lovely, but you got one thing wrong.”

“What’s that?”

“Your dog isn’t gonna be the third wheel. I’m afraid that’s your role. I did tell you how much I love dogs, didn’t I?”

Gabriel laughed, “Hmmmn, well I can’t let my dog upstage me, even if he is absolutely adorable.”

“I’m not sure you can call a German Shepherd adorable. Maybe ‘noble hound’ would be more appropriate.”

“Maxy is adorable. You haven’t seen him when he’s rolling around on the carpet because a treat has gotten him overexcited. There’s this one brand of chew bones that really get him. . .”

They slipped into easy conversation and Sam almost didn’t notice when it reached closing time. Gabriel waited for him to lock up and insisted on driving him home

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


The next morning, they met at the park. Sam had been casually waiting on a bench when he’d seen the shapes of a rather short man and a massive dog coming over the hill. He stayed seated, not wanting to intimidate Maxy- Sam was aware of his own size. He couldn’t stop himself admiring what a gorgeous dog Maxy was though, with thick fur and a wolf-like but oddly friendly face. Gabriel sat down on the bench beside him but Maxy stood standing, eying Sam warily. Gabriel winked at Sam and leant in for a small chaste kiss.

When he pulled away, Maxy looked a little calmer and Gabriel smirked, “Well now he knows that I trust you.”

“Do you kiss everyone who you want him to like?”

Gabriel laughed, “Only the pretty ones.”

Sam tried not to blush, “Can I pet him?”

“Let him come to you.”

Sam slid off the bench, making sure to stay a few feet away from the dog. He knelt on one knee on the path, keeping his body language as open and non-threatening as he could. Using his softest voice, the one he reserved for animals and small children, he called out, “Maxy, it’s okay. Here boy.”

The dog eyed him for a minute and Sam noticed that the dog had amber eyes almost the same shade as Gabriel’s, just a little darker. The observation made him smile, maybe it was true what they said about dogs and their owners. Maxy seemed to make a decision, after looking to Gabriel for encouragement, and padded over to Sam. Sam kept his palm open and allowed the dog to push his nose into it, forcing himself to hold back a laugh at the sensation when Maxy gave his hand a slobbery lick. Maxy seemed settled and allowed Sam to gently pet his head and back. His ears and tail relaxed and his mouth fell open a little with his tongue lolling out as he enjoyed the petting.

Gabriel smiled at Sam, “He likes you. That’s unusual, normally it takes a couple of meetings to get him like this.”

Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of Maxy, “He’s gorgeous, Gabriel.”

Gabriel leaned down and removed Maxy’s lead, “The park’s quite, we should be safe to play fetch for a bit.”

Maxy pulled back from Sam and slammed his front paws into the ground, wiggling his butt high in the air and barked happily. Gabriel handed Sam a tennis ball, “Here, you throw it for him.”

Sam lobbed the ball and it landed several metres away in the still-wet grass. Maxy ran after it, bounding across the ground like a puppy. He snatched the ball up and came running back, tail wagging behind him. The ball was deposited in front of Gabriel, who picked it up, fed Maxy a treat and then threw it again. Sam sat himself back on the bench beside Gabriel, “I hate to bring it up but, any progress on the case?”

Gabriel sighed, “We found a hoodie with a bloodstain on the front stuffed in a closet that belonged to the killer, but there’s no fingerprints on them or DNA that we can find. The guy was careful.”

“Guy? You think it was a man?”

“That’s what we’re assuming, given the size of the hoodie and the strength required to knock out and manhandle a fully grown man. Statistically speaking, it’s more likely to be a man, but we’re not limiting ourselves here.”

“Any suspects?”

“Some. None with any evidence save potential motives, but even those are weak. Some of his colleagues disagreed with him over certain subjects and his students certainly weren’t overly fond of him for his homework, but we don’t have enough detail to actually gather enough evidence to form a case. To tell the truth, we’re a little stumped. If no new evidence comes to light, we’ll have to put the case on the back-burner and I really don’t want to have to do that.”

“You’re doing everything that you can.”

Gabriel sighed, “I know.”

Maxy returned with the ball and this time, Sam fed him a treat and threw the ball away again. He didn’t miss the soppy look in Gabriel’s eyes when he looked at the dog. Changing the subject, Sam asked, “You think he’d let me walk him? I don’t want to stress him out but. . .”

Gabriel frowned, “I don’t know. He’s never taken to someone this fast, but he’s also never been walked by anyone else and I don’t know how he’d react. I just don’t want you to have to deal with him when he’s feeling threatened. He’s quite a big dog. . .”

“And I’m quite a big man. Don’t worry about me Gabriel, think about what’s best for Maxy.”

“I don’t think he’s ready to be walked by a virtual stranger just yet- sorry, Sam- but I think. . . If you wanted to help, I could always use some company? If you jog here anyway, then it seems stupid not to walk together.”

“Then Maxy could have more time to get used to me,” said Sam, “Sounds good. And Gabe, seriously, if there’s anything I can do to help then tell me. Please.”

Gabriel looked at him and smiled, “How did I get so lucky?”

Sam looked back at Gabriel, at the compact package of bravery, sass and golden eyes that was his boyfriend and replied, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  
  


Over the next couple of weeks, Sam continued to meet Gabriel and Maxy at the park for a morning walk. After the first few times, he ended up walking back to Gabriel’s building with him- a familiar route from walking to Charlie’s so much. The time after that, he came back up to Gabriel’s apartment for a coffee before his morning lecture. He’d discovered that although Gabriel had a brilliant fancy coffee machine (a promotion gift from the guys at the station) he did not have much in the way of food in his fridge and the bin was overflowing with polystyrene takeout boxes. Sam was not impressed. He might have been a student, but he knew how to cook and he was almost offended that Gabriel’s beautiful kitchen was not being used.

Soon after that, he started making Gabriel casseroles and pasta bakes to store in his fridge to heat up when he got home. He realised that he was acting like a weird sort of mother hen, but it was the only way he could see to help Gabriel, and his boyfriend seemed to appreciate it. Lucifer had never appreciated his cooking. There had always been something wrong with it. Strange to think now, but that had seemed so normal. He often wondered why he’d just taken it, why he’d let Lucifer be so cruel for all those months. He supposed he’d just been so grateful that someone like Lucifer was interested in him. Growing up, he’d been led to believe that he wasn’t good for anything and Lucifer had changed that, in his own sadistic way. With Lucifer, he’d been useful for something.

He was thinking about Lucifer less and less, thoughts of him replaced by a certain investigator with honey eyes and hair that flicked up at the end in such a perfect way. Every time Sam saw him, he thought he fell a little deeper in love.

But while his relationship with Gabriel was flourishing, work was not. The bar at which he worked was not doing well. A newer, cheaper establishment had opened only a block away and while Sam had suggested to the manager that lowering their prices might attract their customers back, he wouldn’t hear of it. Sam’s boss, Zachariah, had always been quite stubborn and proud. He seemed to see lowering prices as a cheap trick, pandering to the consumers. Sam thought that any amount of pandering would go a long way in saving his business, but he held his tongue. Zachariah was easy enough to get along with, so long as you didn’t contradict him.

He had just finished a long evening shift when Zachariah called him into his office. Sam was a little suspicious- usually Zachariah had long since gone home, leaving Sam to lock up. Not tonight. Tonight, he was sat behind his chaotic mess of a desk, in a dingy office that he had clearly tried to lighten up with a couple of pot plants and an inexplicably glittery gold lamp.

“Sam, sit down,” said Zachariah, once he had entered. He himself was sat in a worn leather chair, the stuffing bursting out of gaps in the seams.

Sam sat, hoping he wasn’t in trouble. Gabriel had been coming in a lot of late, and he hoped he wasn’t about to get shouted at for consorting with customers.

“Sam. You know that this establishment hasn’t been doing well recently, hasn’t been doing well at all.”

“I had noticed that, yes.” Sam had a feeling he was about to get fired.

“Well, Sam, I’ve had to make some cuts. It’s been difficult, you understand, but I can’t afford to pay out the wages that I’m paying out. You’ve done a great job, great work, but you’ve worked here the least amount of time out of your coworkers and I just feel that’s the fairest way.”

Bingo.

Zachariah explained the terms of his exit. He’d get two weeks pay and then he was out. Sam thanked him and left, already doing the maths of how soon he’d have to get another job. He had a little in savings, but he wouldn’t be able to afford rent and living supplies unless he got another job within the month.

Great.

When he got outside, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Gabriel.

_You working tomorrow? I can drop in after I finish up - G xx_

Sam texted back.

 _Just got fired actually._ We could _still meet up? - Sam xx_

His phone rang, Gabriel calling. He picked up. Gabriel didn’t even bother saying hello, just launched straight in with, “You got fired? What the hell? Who could even fire you? Oh crap, was it me? Was I distracting you from your bartender duties? Did I get you fired?”

Sam cut him off, “No! No, it wasn’t you. Just that the bar is kinda headed for bankruptcy and my boss is making cuts. It’s more that I got ‘let go’ rather than fired. Not sure where I’m gonna find another job though. . .”

Gabriel was silent for a minute, “I can ask my sister if there’s any openings at that coffee shop she works in? She might be able to put in a good word.”

Sam relaxed a little, “That would be so good of you, Gabriel.”

“Are you. . .” Gabriel seemed hesitant, “You will tell me if you’re not alright for money, won’t you Sam? I don’t want to be nosy or get in your business, but you will tell me if you need help?”

“Of course. I’ve got savings, I’m alright. I just. . . I’d just feel better with some income, that’s all.”

“Good.”

“Hey, so even though I’m not working, we could still meet up? My flatmate, Kevin, has a Netflix account that we all steal if you wanted to come round and eat food and binge-watch a show?”

“Sam, that sounds like heaven.”

“Text me a time and I’ll aim food for then. You haven’t yet tried my homemade calzones. . .”

“That also sounds heavenly. . .”

“Just you wait.”

“Sure, bye Sam.”

“Bye, Gabe. Give my love to Maxy.”

“Sometimes I feel like I am the third wheel in this relationship.”

“Goodbye Gabe.”

“Night, Sam.”

Gabriel hung up and Sam was left grinning at his phone like an idiot.

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


Of course, happiness never lasts, as Sam was to find out. It was the next day and he and Gabriel had just sat down with their calzones to watch “Unnatural”, a show about two sisters who hunt monsters and attempt to save the world while struggling with their codependent relationship with each other. They were sat comfortably on the couch, shoulders touching, when Gabriel’s mobile rang. He apologised to Sam, “It’s work, I gotta take it.”

He put his calzone down and held the phone to his ear, “This is Investigator Milton. . . Yes … Crap … I’ll be there in ten. Thanks Garth.”

Gabriel put down his phone and rubbed his hand over his face, “There’s been another murder. Garth thinks it’s connected to the first case.”

“Oh God. Is it someone else at the university?”

“Guy called Zachariah Smith, runs a bar downtown. Garth is texting me the details. . .”

Sam stood up, “Zachariah Smith? That’s my boss, my old boss.”

Gabriel looked up sharply, “It is? Crap, I’m sorry.”

Sam shook his head, “No, I just. . . Wow, okay. Why does Garth think it’s connected?”

Gabriel’s phone pinged and an image came up onscreen. Gabriel looked at it and went pale. When he spoke, his voice was a little strangled, “I think this is why. . .”

He showed Sam the picture. It was a close-up of a piece of paper taped to what appeared to be Zachariah’s chest. Covered in red stains, it read:

_The professor who gave you too much homework, the boss who fired you. Can’t you see that I’m protecting you? We’re made for each other. Come back to me._

Sam took a step back, almost falling over the sofa in his haste to get away from the phone, his head spinning. It couldn’t be. This had to be a dream, a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. Someone had faked the photograph, or maybe this was just a sick joke. It couldn’t be him, it couldn’t be. Gabriel was saying his name, but Sam couldn’t hear above the buzzing in his ears. He turned and turned again, he needed to get out but everything was so hot and dizzying and he couldn’t see properly.

Hands grasping his shoulders, holding him still, trailing down, holding his hands together in front of him. A forehead pressed against his own. Sam remembered how to breathe again, the buzzing subsided. Gabriel ran a hand over his cheek, “Sam? Sam? You with me here? Sam?”

Sam swallowed, his throat impossibly dry, “I’m here. Sorry.”

Gabriel guided him to the couch and made him sit down, “I’m going to get you some water. Just sit here, okay Sam?”

When Gabriel came back with the water, Sam felt the shock had subsided a little, enough for him to say, “I know who the killer is.”

Gabriel sat down, “Sam?”

“His name is Lucifer Morningstar. I mean, that’s what he was called when I was with him, he might have had a different name before. But I don’t know.”

“Wait, you were with him? This is your ex?”

Sam nodded miserably, “It wasn’t. . . It wasn’t good. Some might say it was abusive. I never. . . I was always kind of scared of him and I. . . I left him, about eight months ago. He took it badly, but I didn’t think. . . I thought he’d moved on. And I never thought he could do this.”

“It’s okay, Sam. Are you sure this is him?”

Sam nodded again, “Made for each other. That’s what he always said. It’s him.”

Gabriel took Sam’s hands in his, “I’m going to call that in, there’ll be a search for him. Then, I’m going to go down to the crime scene and see if I can’t pick something up that’ll lead us to him. If you can handle it, handle seeing it, I could use a pair of eyes that know Lucifer to look over the scene. It’s okay if you can’t, I understand.”

Sam shook his head, “No, I can do it. I want to help.”

Gabriel stood up, “I’m going to call this in. Do you know anywhere where he might be?”

Sam stood up as well, “I can get you the address of his old apartment and there are some bars and strip clubs he used to go to.”

“That’s a good start. Thanks, Sam.”

Sam wrote down the addresses of everywhere he could remember Lucifer ever going or speaking of going. He knew that Lucifer was smart, knew that he probably wouldn’t go back anywhere as obvious, but it was worth a look around. It had to be.

Gabriel drove the ten minutes down to the bar. Sam stared out of the car window, feeling completely blank. He expected to feel scared, but he only felt mildly sick. He just couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that Lucifer had gone so far. Despite the unease he felt around the man, despite the fact that he knew Lucifer was a little unhinged, he couldn’t associate cold-blooded murder with the guy he’d once been in love with.

Seeing Zachariah’s body made it a little more real, but he still couldn’t imagine Lucifer there, killing him and taping a note to his chest. Gabriel took hold of Sam’s hand, squeezing it gently and Sam was grateful for the grounding. Zachariah had been shot once in the forehead, presumably while sat in his desk as that was consistent with the position his body had been found in and the bloodstains on the wall behind. Then, the note had been taped to his chest and the killer had left. Lucifer had left. Sam had to start thinking of him as Lucifer.

The tiny office appeared not to have been touched, although the obnoxiously tacky glittering gold lamp had been knocked onto the floor. Sam knew that Lucifer would have hated such a tasteless piece of furniture and wondered if it had been knocked over on purpose. There certainly hadn’t been a struggle here. He tried to look for anything that could be useful to Gabriel and the police, but he saw nothing. Gabriel examined the scene himself, but there were no further leads turned up. They went back to the station, where the Chief of Police, Mr Rufus Turner, assembled the officers and organised them into search teams. Sam wasn’t there for that bit, he was sat in the observation room, holding onto Gabriel’s hand under the table and telling two police officers everything he knew about Lucifer and his habits. He also provided them with pictures from his cell phone.

Gabriel had to leave for a while, but one of the police officers brought him coffee, and he was quite happy to sit with a hot drink in a heavily guarded police station. He was dreading having to go home and attempt to sleep. Coffee was good. When Gabriel came back, he looked grim, “I’ve assigned a detail of police to protect you. They’ll stand guard outside your apartment and at least one will accompany you everywhere else you go. I don’t want you doing anything alone, you understand me?”

Sam nodded, then remembered something. Horror washed over him and he looked up at Gabriel with wide eyes, “Gabe, he knows about you.”

Gabriel’s expression didn’t change, “I thought he might.”

Sam shook his head, “He came to see me after our first date, he threatened me. I think you’re in danger.”

Gabriel’s face turned angry, “He came to see you and you didn’t tell me?”

“We’d been on one date, Gabriel. And it wasn’t like it was the first time.”

That had clearly been the wrong thing to say. Gabriel looked as though he might explode. Sam attempted to placate him, “Gabe, it’s okay. I’m fine, aren’t I? And I didn’t know he was a murderer then either. Look, you’re right, I won’t go anywhere alone and there’s no way he’ll approach me. But Gabe, listen to me. You have to do the same thing. He’s targeting people around me and right now, that means you. And. . . Oh God, what about Charlie? And Kevin. And Ash.”

Gabriel ran his hand over his face, “Crap. Well, he seems to be targeting people he sees as threats to you. Kevin and Ash, tell them to be careful, not go anywhere alone and they’ll benefit from the police guarding your apartment. Charlie. . . Okay. I’ll call her and I’ll assign some police to our building. We won’t let him hurt anyone else, okay Sam?”

“Okay.”

“You want to go home now?”

Sam swallowed. He didn’t really want to, but he knew he owed it to Kevin and Ash to go and explain to them why there was now going to be police posted outside his door 24/7. So he nodded and let himself be driven back to his apartment by the two officers who had been given first shift. He wished that Gabriel could be with him, but he knew that his boyfriend had to be there to help orchestrate the search. Maybe they’d get lucky and Lucifer would be found by the morning.

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


They were not so lucky. He was not found that morning, nor the next morning, nor the morning after. Police issued warnings to the public and offered a reward for information on him, but it seemed as though Lucifer had vanished into the mist. They couldn’t find a single trace of him that was more recent than two months ago. Sam attempted to continue his normal life, but it was a little difficult when he had to be accompanied by a police officer everywhere he went. Not that he wasn’t grateful for the protection- he realised that the manpower of the police force was limited and it was probably due to Gabriel’s influence that he was getting such flexible and 24/7 protection, but he couldn’t help wishing that the entire thing would just go away.

He managed to get a job at the coffee shop that Anna worked at, thanks to several good words from her. The manager was a little worried that having Sam work there would make the cafe a target- the papers had gotten hold of the story by then and ‘The Devil’ was enjoying quite a bit of coverage. Still, Anna had persuaded him, somehow, and Sam was grateful. Working took his mind off things, and he enjoyed Anna’s company. Sometimes, Gabriel came to meet him after work and they’d walk Maxy together. It was on one of those days that Sam received the call. He and Gabriel were standing together, throwing the ball for Maxy to fetch when Sam’s phone rang. He pulled it out to find that he was being called by a blocked number. Normally, he would have ignored it, but something made him pick up.

“Hello, Sam.”

That voice. The voice that whispered in his nightmares and sent shivers crawling down his back, the voice that purred and oiled and snapped and sent Sam’s brain into meltdown. Now it was on the other end of the line. He hung up, staring at his phone like it was suddenly a mass of snakes.

Gabriel was looking at him, on alert, “Sam? Who was that?”

Sam swallowed, “Lucifer. It was Lucifer.”

Sam’s phone rang again, a blocked number again. He thought quickly, “Gabriel, get your phone out, record it. I’m gonna put him on speaker, but you mustn’t talk. He can’t know you’re here. Promise me.”

Gabriel nodded and pulled out his own phone, opening up the voice recorder function, “Answer it.”

Sam pressed the green button and put it on speaker. Lucifer’s voice snaked its way into the open air, “Hello, Sam. I’m going to assume you hung up by accident. Is that right?”

He seemed to be waiting for a response. All Sam could think to say was: “Lucifer.”

“Hmmmn, yes. Did you get my message, Sam? I’ll assume you did. That’s what’s so handy about you dating that cop.”

“Lucifer, you don’t have to do this.”

“It’s not a question of that, Sammy. I want to protect you, that’s all.”

He sounds so reasonable, so assured that Sam can feel himself slipping a little. Then he remembers Zachariah’s body, the smell of it and the smashed lamp on the floor. His voice comes out strong, “I don’t want your protection. I don’t want anything from you.”

“Yes, you do.” Lucifer let out a long sigh, “Don’t you remember how it used to be, Sammy?  Don’t you want that again?”

“No.”

“Do you need me to describe what I used to do to you, what you used to beg me to do to you?”

“No,” Sam can feel his heart beating it’s way out of his chest, feels the familiar sickness rising in his chest. Lucifer can’t say that, not here, not with Gabriel here, listening.

Lucifer continued, “Are you sure, Sam? I think you could use a recap. It might shock your boyfriend, though. I know he’s there. I can see you, you know. His hand on your arm. He doesn’t deserve you, Sammy, he doesn’t treat you properly, not like I do.”

Sam looked around wildly, half expecting Lucifer to lunge at them out of the trees, but there was nothing but empty park.

Lucifer laughed, the sound of it strange and creepy through the phone, “You won’t find me, Sam. Not today. Not while you’re still cheating on me, no, not while you’re still under his influence.”

“We broke up, Lucifer. I left you. I moved on. Whatever we had, it’s gone. You need to accept that.”

“See that? That is him talking. That’s him. He’s brainwashed you, Sam. Doesn’t he know that he can’t have you? That you’ll always be mine? That’s what you used to tell me, isn’t it? That you were mine.”

Sam shook his head, unable to speak. He couldn’t look at Gabriel, couldn’t bear to see the expression on his face.

Lucifer’s voice got deeper, quieter, “And you are mine, aren’t you Sammy. And I’m not going to let anyone else have you.”

He hung up. Sam closed his eyes, let Gabriel take the phone from him. Gabriel was talking, something about getting the phone to the station, tracing the call, but Sam wasn’t listening. He felt like he was going to fall down, a cascade of memories beating down on him, all to the soundtrack of Lucifer’s silken voice and under the gaze of his piercingly blue eyes. He can’t open his eyes, can’t bring himself to face the disgust that’s probably on Gabriel’s face. Now that he hears Lucifer again, he can’t believe himself, can’t believe that he fell for such an obvious creep. Waves of self-hate wash over him. How did he not see it? How did he miss the wrongness about Lucifer?

Instead, Sam felt someone put their arms around him, someone short and cuddly who smelt faintly of sweet lemon. He made himself open his eyes and looked down to see the top of Gabriel’s head, the man’s arms firmly wrapped around Sam. He wanted to cry. Gabriel tilts his head back, honey eyes fixing Sam with a sympathetic gaze, “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. It was his fault, he didn’t deserve that. Gabriel put a hand up to Sam’s face and tucked a lock of hair behind Sam’s ear, “We’ll catch him, Sam. I promise you.” Gabriel stepped back, “Now let’s get to the station and trace the call. Might turn something up.”

Sam felt decidedly confused, wondering where all the disgust and judgement had gone, but he let Gabriel take his hand and lead him out of the park.

  
  


* * * 

  
  
  


Unfortunately, tracing the call didn’t help them any. It was a pre-paid cellphone, bought under the name ‘Mikey Smith’ from a store downtown about two months ago. They searched the area around the park, but found no signs of Lucifer. It was beginning to frustrate Gabriel intensely. Lucifer was turning out to be far more adept at avoiding capture than he’d ever expected. He had begun to encourage Sam to leave town for a while, but he wouldn’t have it. Every time Gabriel brought it up, Sam said he’d only go if Gabriel went to, making the case that Gabriel was in more danger than Sam was. Lucifer didn’t want to kill Sam, that much seemed clear. Mind you, he was also a dangerous psychopath, so there was no telling what might happen if he got near to Sam. Which wasn’t happening. Gabriel was hand-selecting the officers in charge of guarding Sam.

They needed something to change, something new. If only they had some sort of leverage. . . Just something to get a foot in the door. Anything.

It had been a week since the phone call, two weeks since the murder of Zachariah, and Lucifer had been quiet. The search from him had died down a little, although Gabriel was still working constantly on the case. He wouldn’t take on anything else until Lucifer was brought to justice. Although, he was beginning to wonder if Lucifer had skipped town. There had been no sightings, no uses of his credit cards, no sign of him at all. That would be a blessing, although he would like some proof of his absence before he took the guard off Sam.

He left the precinct late, around nine o’clock, after another frustrating day attempting to track down Lucifer. He had refused a ride home, hoping that a walk in the fresh air would clear his head. He wasn’t stupid about it though, he kept his hand firmly on his gun, checking around him to make sure he wasn’t being followed.

He wasn’t quite careful enough.

He heard a step behind him and was about to turn when a cloth was clamped over his mouth. It smelled foul like chemicals and he suspected it was a sedative of some description. Gabriel held his breath, kicking and struggling as best he could, but whoever held him was strong and didn’t budge. His gun-arm was trapped between the assailant’s arm and his own body and his fingers scrabbled uselessly as he tried to grip the weapon.

He couldn’t hold his breath forever and he eventually had to take one. The chemical sensation invaded his nose and mouth, making his eyes water. He could feel his movements becoming weaker and slower with every second and he renewed his effort to get free. Somehow, he managed to aim a kick behind him in the right place and his attacker swore and let go. He fell forwards, too dizzy to stand properly. Gabriel rolled onto his back, pulling his gun and trying to hold his arms up. They were so heavy. So heavy. And blackness was creeping into his vision. He shot blindly, before the darkness took over completely and he blacked out.

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  


Gabriel woke slowly, consciousness returning to him one faculty at a time. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing even- if his captor was in the room with him, he wanted to prolong his time alive for as long as possible. He turned his attention to his position. He was sat down, presumably on a chair, his arms tied behind him and his ankles restrained to the legs of the chair. Gabriel tested his bonds as subtly as possible. They seemed secure. He could hear the clanking and groaning of water pipes, along with a steady dripping nearby. Nothing to suggest that there was someone else in the room with him. Gabriel held his breath for a second, a shot of fear driving through him when in the sudden silence he heard another person breathing. He wasn’t alone. He forced himself to continue breathing evenly, to keep his face slack and his eyes glued shut. The feeling of heaviness seemed to be disappearing slowly from his limbs, but he could still feel the threat of dizziness buzzing at his temples.

“I know you’re awake,” a voice rang through the air, smooth and silken. Gabriel recognised it immediately.

He heard movement and decided that keeping up the pretense was no longer worth it. He opened his eyes, blinking at the sudden light. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that it was quite dim in the room, apart from a single lamp that was trained on him. Behind the light, a shadowy figure watched him with sharp blue eyes. He seemed to be in some kind of abandoned building, perhaps a warehouse of some kind. There was some rusted corrugated iron by one wall and a few shallow crates by the other. Most frightening of all was the table beside his captor, behind the light. It was just dark enough that Gabriel couldn’t make out the objects on it, but by the way some of them seemed to glint in the darkness, they couldn’t be anything good.

He found his voice, “Lucifer.”

The man stepped out from the shadows and Gabriel got his first proper look at the killer, “Hello, Gabriel. I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you. I’ve been preoccupied.”

Keep him talking, said a voice in Gabriel’s head. You’re still alive, he wants to talk, “I’m touched. But I’ve been busy too, not sure our schedules will ever fit.”

“Busy trying to catch me, I see. Or, that’s what the papers say. I haven’t really noticed. It’s a shame really. I wouldn’t mind Sammy moving on, if only he moved onto someone worthwhile.”

“And you get to judge that, do you?”

“Yes,” Lucifer smiled, his eyes full of a conviction that scared Gabriel, “He’s mine.”

“No, he’s not,” Gabriel forced his voice to remain steady, “Sam doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“I suppose that’s what he believes as well,” Lucifer gave Gabriel a long look up and down, making Gabriel fidget uncomfortably. He smiled slowly, a shark-like grin, “You know, I’ve been trying to decide what to do to you. The one who stole my Sammy from me.”

“I didn’t steal him.”

“Of course you did. Don’t play innocent,” Lucifer walked over to the table behind the light and picked something up. A long, thin blade with a delicate handle. It was a beautiful weapon and in any other circumstances, Gabriel would have admired it. Clearly, these were not such circumstances. Lucifer twirled the blade around his hands, “I was going to kill you quickly, get the job done. But I think it’s more important to get a message to Sam first. He seems to have forgotten who owns him.”

Gabriel couldn’t take his eyes off the knife, “Lucifer. That won’t work, Sam’s escaped you. He’s out of your reach now, you need to see that.”

Lucifer stepped forward again and, as casually as though he was swatting a fly, backhanded Gabriel hard across the face. Gabriel heard his own nose crack, heard ringing in his ears and felt the rush of blood to his head. He coughed, spitting blood onto the floor. Lucifer’s voice was calm, “I think that’s enough talking from you.”

Gabriel closed his eyes for a second, willing the ringing in his ears to stop. Through blurred vision, he saw Lucifer approach him with the blade. Hands ripped open his shirt to reveal bare chest. Gabriel could feel himself breathing rapidly, but he felt detached somehow, as though he was floating above his body because this couldn’t be happening to him. There could not be a madman with a knife standing over his exposed chest with _that_ look in his cold blue eyes.

The first cut came as a shock and Gabriel struggled to remain still. He held in his grunt of pain, refusing to give Lucifer any satisfaction. He just had to hold on, just had to wait. The next cuts came quickly, long drawn out bites into his skin with no break in between. It felt like Lucifer was drawing something on his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to look down and see what it was. He just clenched his jaw and his fists, locking his body against the pain. He’d endured worse, but it was the anticipation that was killing him, the thought of what would come after the shallow cuts. Lucifer had mentioned wanting to send Sam a message. Gabriel knew that the kinds of messages Lucifer ended up sending were carried by dead bodies. Christ. He’d never in his worst nightmares imagined ending up at the hands of a psychopath like Lucifer.

After what seemed like an hour of Lucifer’s careful strokes, he finally stepped back. Gabriel let out a long breath, letting his head fall forward, sweaty hair falling in front of his face. Lucifer disappeared for a minute, then returned carrying a smudged mirror. He smirked at Gabriel, “Want to see?”

In the mirror, the message appeared backwards, but it was simple enough that Gabriel could understand. Lucifer had carved “S + L” inside a heart being shot through with an arrow, the kind of thing that kids in middle school draw on their notebooks. Coming from a man like Lucifer, carved into his chest, it was just immensely threatening.

Gabriel met Lucifer’s eyes, “It’s nice. Change the L to a G and I might even thank you.”

Lucifer seemed to sweep down in front of him and his hand was gripping Gabriel’s chin before Gabriel could even blink, “Watch your tone.”

His voice was low and threatening, reminding Gabriel yet again that Lucifer was not just a madman. He was a dangerous one. Gabriel could feel hot blood seeping down his chest. He wondered how long it would take him to bleed out completely from cuts like those. Probably quite a while- they weren’t deep. Lucifer had wanted him alive. Gabriel didn’t really want to know why, but he had a feeling that the mysterious objects on the table had something to do with it.

Lucifer let go of his chin, satisfied by Gabriel’s lack of response and moved back towards the table. He picked up a shiny silver canister with a metal tube extending from near the top. It looked a little like a miniature fire extinguisher, and as Lucifer brought it closer, Gabriel realised that it was a blowtorch. He struggled against his bindings, even knowing it was futile, his bare feet scrabbling against the rough ground.

Lucifer tilted his head to the side, “You know, it is nice. But I think it needs accenting, don’t you?”

He flicked the safety lock and pushed his thumb onto the trigger, a small blue flame flaring up out of the metal tube. Gabriel forced himself to stay silent, even as his body tried to get away from the approaching flame. He shut his eyes, screwing them shut and arching his body away as far as he could, waiting for the pain.

There was a sudden crash from somewhere else in the warehouse. Gabriel opened his eyes to see Lucifer standing frozen, listening. He tossed the blowtorch aside and picked up a gun. There was another crash, closer this time.

“Sit tight. I’ll be back in a second,” hissed Lucifer, before disappearing from Gabriel’s sight.

There was silence for a couple of seconds, then Gabriel heard shots fired. He strained against his ties, but Lucifer had done his job well. He wasn’t going anywhere. He listened out, but the place had gone silent again. Then, he heard footsteps, several pairs of them approaching. They were soft-footed, but unmistakable in the quiet. There were no words for the gratitude that rushed through Gabriel when they rounded the corner and he recognised Junior Detective Garth at the head of them.

He was quickly released and Garth filled him in on the situation: Lucifer had escaped, but they had men following him and they were hoping to chase him down.

Garth looked ashamed, “I’m sorry, Gabriel, I don’t know how it happened. Waste of your sacrifice.”

Gabriel shook his head, “It’s fine, Garth. I’m alive, aren’t I? We knew this could happen, it’s why you put the damn tracker on my phone in the first place. I’m just glad you got here when you did. Guy was about to use a blowtorch on me.”

“Speaking of. . . What did he do to your chest?” Garth held Gabriel at arms length to get a better look, “Jesus Christ, that’s never leaving my head.”

Gabriel looked down, “I’d better cover up. Can’t let Sam see this. Where is he, by the way?”

“He heard you were missing, he came down to the station. We had to force him to stay there, he was all for busting in here with us. Listen, Gabriel, you gotta go to the hospital but I’ll send him along to you.”

Gabriel clapped Garth on the shoulder weakly, “Thanks.”

Garth tipped his hat, “No problem, partner.”

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


Sam burst into the hospital room, his heart pounding. He’d hardly been able to breathe since he’d found out the Lucifer had taken Gabriel. Not even when they’d told him Gabriel was safe had he been able to relax. He needed to see it for himself. And now here he was, although Sam’s view was obscured by a nurse who was doing something to his chest with a flannel and a basin of water. When he saw Sam, Gabriel immediately pulled his hospital gown closed and shooed the nurse. She scowled at him and said, “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes then, will I?”

Gabriel flashed her a shadow of a winning smile, “If you would.”

She rolled her eyes at him and left. Gabriel met Sam’s eyes, “That’s Nurse Meg. We go way back. She can be a little prickly.”

Sam felt tears pricking at the backs of his eyes, “Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s smile slipped, “Sam.”

Sam shook his head, “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

Gabriel’s voice was stern, “No, it wasn’t. Come here, Sam.”

Sam went to the bed. He sat down, finding Gabriel’s hand and squeezing it, proving to himself that this was real, that Gabriel was really okay. It was gonna be okay. Sam stared at Gabriel’s hand, saw the tiny scrapes and bruises on it and knew that all of them were because of him. Maybe not his fault directly, but if it weren’t for him, Gabriel wouldn’t have any of it. That was just a truth he had to face. He didn’t say any of that though, because what was there to say? He just drank in the sight of Gabriel, alive and well, “I thought he was going to kill you.”

Gabriel squeezed Sam’s hand, “I know. But he didn’t. We knew this might happen, that’s why we put precautions in place.”

“The tracker on your phone, I know.”

“Garth and his team found me.”

“Not fast enough. He hurt you.”

“I’m fine, Sam.”

Sam blinked back tears. He might not be a great detective, but he could spot when Gabriel was lying, “Show me.”

Gabriel shook his head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sam fixed him with a look, “I know Lucifer, Gabriel. I know what he did to you.”

“Sam?”

Sam’s voice was hollow, “I know because it’s what he did to me.”

He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. He’d known as soon as he’d seen the nurse tending to Gabriel’s chest. He’d known that Lucifer would want to send a message, known that Lucifer was fond of things like this. He’d have wanted Sam to remember.

Sam unbuttoned his shirt fully and pulled it open, exposing his chest. He watched as Gabriel’s face went white, as fingers reached up to trace the healed scar lines left on Sam’s chest. A heart shot through with an arrow, the letters “S + L” right in the centre. The skin was burnt and cut, warped and sliced, but the message was clear. And permanent. Without surgery, Sam would never get rid of it.

Gabriel wordlessly opened the hospital gown to reveal his own scars. Sam breathed out a relieved sigh when he saw that Lucifer had not gotten to the blowtorch part. He could still remember the feeling of that flame melting and twisting his skin, the searing pain that had burned for weeks afterwards. But there were still the cuts, shallow, but there. They’d heal over better than Sam’s though, fade to thin white lines if Gabriel was lucky.

Sam realised he was crying.

Gabriel was looking at Sam with a kind of dazed awe on his face, “You’re so strong, Sam.”

Of all the things Sam had been expecting Gabriel to say, that was not one of them. But Gabriel didn’t get it. He shook his head, “You don’t understand. I’m not. I let him do this to me. I let him. It was my fault.”

“Sam. No, it wasn’t.”

“I should have. . . I should have done better.”

Gabriel sat up a little more in bed so he could reach forward and take Sam’s hand, “Sam, you were not the one holding the fucking blowtorch. Ergo, not your fault. You will never convince me otherwise.” Gabriel took a breath and started to rub little comforting circles into Sam’s palm, “You’re strong. Something like this happens to most people? They break, they give up.”

Sam wanted to tell Gabriel that he was broken, that he had given up, but Gabriel continued, “You left him. You were strong enough to leave him, Sam, remember that? That’s not the action of someone who’s broken.”

Sam saw the sense in Gabriel’s words, could see that they were rational. He knew that Gabriel was probably right, but it didn’t dispel the roiling storm of sickness in his stomach or the burning shame within him. Lucifer had done it when Sam had tried to leave him the first time. When Sam had come back, Lucifer had been beyond angry, beyond disappointed. And strangely enough, it was the disappointment that Sam couldn’t handle, it was the hurt in Lucifer that made him roll over and be still and let him do what he wanted. In some part of his mind, he’d been convinced that he deserved it.

He remembered afterwards, after Lucifer had put down the blowtorch and Sam lay curled on the floor, sobbing and sweating and broken. Lucifer had brought a basin of warm water and a cloth, some kind of ointment and some bandages. He’d been so soft, so soothing and gentle as he took care of Sam and in those minutes, Sam had felt so loved and so grateful. God, the gratitude. It was pathetic now to remember how damn grateful he had been, like a kicked puppy given a treat.

He knew now that Lucifer had been messing with his head, but it didn’t make the feelings feel any less real.

But Gabriel was right. He had left, he had summoned up the courage to do it eventually. He’d moved on, he’d made that clear as day, and then Lucifer had come crawling back to ruin everything. Suddenly, Sam felt anger, rich, thick, burning anger that simmered just under his skin. He’d never felt real anger at Lucifer before, but he had never seen things this clearly. It was a moment of clarity, as if he had been watching the world through the wrong prescription glasses and they’d just been removed. Lucifer was wrong. He wasn’t.

It wasn’t his fault.

Lucifer was the one with the words and the knives and the stupid fucking blowtorch. Lucifer was the murderer. Lucifer was the manipulator, the torturer, the stalker. It wasn’t Sam’s fault, he wasn’t responsible for Lucifer. He left and Lucifer couldn’t accept that. He left and Lucifer reacted badly. He left and Lucifer was wrong. It was all on Lucifer. Sam blinked and looked at Gabriel, feeling as if he’d just broken the surface after being submerged in water. His voice was a whisper, but there was conviction in it that he hadn’t heard in himself for a long time, “It’s Lucifer’s fault.”

Gabriel nodded emphatically, “Yes, it is.”

“It’s not mine.” It was almost a question.

Gabriel took Sam’s hand in both of his, “It’s not your fault.”

Sam swallowed, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m still sorry. I’m sorry he got to you.”

“I know. I’m sorry he got to you first,” Gabriel met Sam’s eyes, his expression sincere, “We’re going to catch him.”

“I know.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, their hands still intertwined. Sam felt as though a large weight had just been lifted from him. It was as if that weight had been pushing him down, compressing him so that he was out of alignment with the rest of the world. Now that it was gone, he felt like everything had fallen back into place, like everything was clear and good and right again. Of course, Lucifer was still out there in the world and they were still in danger, but it felt as though Sam had finally expelled him from his mind.

Nurse Meg came back and finished dressing Gabriel’s chest. She put the bandages on and gave Gabriel sets of replacements so that he could change them over the next few days. Her voice was drawling and sarcastic, but there was a note of concern despite that, “Now I have to ask you if you wouldn’t be so kind and let us keep you in for observation, but I know you. You’ll stagger off rather than stay here, won’t you, Investigator?”

Gabriel swung his legs over the side of the bed, “You know me, Meg.”

“At least go home with someone. You being alone isn’t a good idea. You were hit with some pretty potent sedatives and then tortured. Even a big tough cop like you needs a little support.”

“I’ll go home with him,” said Sam. He added, “If that’s alright.”

Gabriel smiled at Sam, “Sure. We can swing in at Charlie’s on our way up. She’s been worried.”

Nurse Meg fixed Sam with a stern look, “Don’t let him overexert himself.”

“I’ll take care of him.”

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


They did stop in at Charlie’s apartment. She answered the door in a Princess Leia t-shirt and star-patterned pyjama shorts, her cat, Frodo, winding around her legs. When she saw it was them, she ushered them inside quickly and hugged them hard, “God, I’m so glad you’re safe. But hey! You assholes, you need to keep me updated. There is such a thing as the phone, you know.”

Sam grinned, knowing she wasn’t really angry, “Sorry Charlie.”

She shook her head at him, “One day, Sam Winchester, one day.”

They stayed for a bit, updated Charlie on what she needed to know and then excused themselves to go up to bed. Sam was exhausted- the day had taken quite a toll on him, and he knew that Gabriel must have felt about ten times worse. Sam made them some dinner and they ate, then got ready for bed. There was a moment, when Gabriel climbed into his bed and Sam wondered if he was invited to sleep there with him or if he should go to the spare room. Then, Gabriel rolled over and arched an eyebrow at Sam, “Are you planning on standing there all night? I’d hope not because I was looking forward to cuddling with my moose.”

“Moose?” exclaimed Sam indignantly as he climbed into bed beside Gabriel.

Gabriel yawned, “I don’t know. You’re tall and cute like a moose.”

“I think you need to sleep.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Gabriel as he buried his face into Sam’s t-shirt-covered chest.

Sam sighed fondly and put his arms around his boyfriend. He enjoyed cuddling with Gabriel. It was something that Lucifer had never gone in for, but it was nice to just lie there and hold someone and feel the rise and fall of their chest against your arms and the tickle of their hair against your chin. Holding Gabriel made something very protective rise up in Sam and he felt a strong conviction that he would never let anyone hurt this man ever again.

He was almost asleep when Gabriel mumbled something. It took a minute for Sam’s sleepy brain to decipher that he’d said, “Feel so safe with you.”

Sam pulled Gabriel a little closer and said softly, “Me too.”

A sense of peace and warmth descended over him as he slipped closer to sleep. He didn’t feel that he had ever made someone else feel safe before. He’d always been the little brother or the victim, never the strong one, never the one who protected people. But he could be strong for Gabriel, he decided. And that was enough.

He was enough.

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


The police continued to search for Lucifer, but he seemed to have disappeared again. Their search of the warehouse he was using turned up many pieces of evidence of his obsession with Sam- pictures of him, paper with his name written over and over again, other more disturbing things. But there was nothing that gave them any clue as to where he might be, not even so much as a receipt. Honestly, Sam was just praying that he’d been scared by how close the police had gotten and skipped town. After a couple of weeks of nothing, he began to believe that that might have happened. Lucifer might have decided to finally move on and leave him alone.

But, as his track record with luck would suggest, Sam was not so fortunate.

He woke in the dead of night to the sound of a muffled thump from the room beside him. He was sleeping in his own bed at his own apartment- he had a test tomorrow and it made more sense to cram at his own place than Gabriel’s, especially as Gabe was working late. The room beside him was Ash’s, and Sam was used to odd noises coming from there at all hours of the day. Still, after recent events, he was a little more suspicious than normal and he lay listening for any other sounds.

When none came, he relaxed, assuming that Ash must just have dropped something. But then there was another thump, this time from the other side: Kevin’s room. Now that was odd. Sam’s heart was pounding. He told himself that it was probably nothing, but that it was worth getting out of bed to check. Just to make sure they were okay, that was all. Just to be sure. It was probably nothing, just him being paranoid, but it wouldn’t hurt. He got out of bed and pulled his jeans on, trying to be as quiet as possible. He edged open his bedroom door and peered out into the corridor. Nothing. He stepped out and as he did so, a figure came out of Kevin’s room. A figure with bright blue eyes. Sam made a sort of strangled noise and made to run but the figure surged forwards and grabbed his face, squeezing his fingers roughly into Sam’s cheeks.

“Hello, Sam,” purred Lucifer. Fear seeped through Sam, pushing away all his thoughts of strength. How was it that Lucifer still held such power over him? He felt his legs go weak, like they were made of jelly. Lucifer let him go and he fell backwards in his haste to get away, scrabbling back away from the man until his back hit the wall. Lucifer watched him, “Ssssssh, Sammy, it’s okay. Ssssssh, I’m here now.”

“Go away,” Sam hated how his voice trembled, “Please, go away. Leave me alone.”

Lucifer crouched beside Sam, leaning close to whisper, “I’m hurt, Sammy, I thought you wanted to see me. Didn’t you miss me?”

Sam mustered his courage to look Lucifer in the eye, “No.”

Lucifer slapped him hard, hard enough that he fell over sideways onto the tile floor, “I thought I taught you better than that.”

Sam reached out, tried to crawl away, but Lucifer was holding him back. He curled in on himself, felt himself retreating back into that quiet place inside where he used to hide. Lucifer ran a cool hand through Sam’s hair, taking his silence for submission, “That’s a good boy.”

The words made shivers of disgust run through Sam and he thought he might be sick.

Lucifer stayed beside him, stayed whispering, “You’re still mine, Sammy, you know you’re still mine. You’ll always be mine, you can pretend all you want but it won’t be true. Come back to me, Sam, come back to where you were happy.”

Sam raised his head a little, “But I wasn’t happy. I was never-”

Lucifer grabbed Sam’s hair and smashed his head down against the floor, his expression never changing, “Don’t say things like that, Sammy, don’t lie to me.”

Sam’s ears were ringing. The cold of the tiles against his burning head was comforting, helping distract him from the feeling of Lucifer’s fingers still curled in his hair. His voice was hoarse, “What did you do to Ash and Kevin?”

Lucifer looked at him kindly, “They’re fine. They just won’t be waking up to disturb us.”

“And the police officer?”

“Dead.”

Sam stared in horror at the complete blankness that was Lucifer’s face as he said the word and felt a fresh wave of fear drive through him, “You killed him?”

“You have to understand, Sammy, he was in the way. He was trying to stop me from getting to you. He was trying to stop you from being happy.”

“What about Kevin and Ash? Did you kill them?”

“Ssssh, no Sam, no, of course not. I’m not a monster.”

“Yes, you are.”

Again, Lucifer lifted Sam’s head and slammed it down into the tiles. Sam felt heat and pain spread on his forehead, saw red on the tiles. Lucifer’s face was completely calm. Sam remembered this, remembered the casualness with which Lucifer would hurt him. It had seemed so normal, so rational.

Lucifer’s voice was kind, at odds with the way his fingers twisted viciously in Sam’s hair, “I just want to protect you, Sam. I just want to keep you safe, make you happy. That professor was being unfair, was making your life difficult. You said it yourself, so I just removed the problem for you. Your boss was a moron, he fired you. He was making you unhappy. I couldn’t be with you so I had to help you the only other way I knew how. You have to understand, Sammy, your happiness is all I care about now.”

Sam bit his tongue to stop from saying something that would make Lucifer angry. Instead, he asked softly, “Why me?”

Lucifer’s fingers relaxed in his hair a little, “Because you’re special, Sam. I knew it as soon as I saw you. We’re perfect for each other.” Lucifer took his fingers from Sam’s hair and sat back a little. Sam didn’t move, still frozen stiff with fear as Lucifer continued to speak, “We’re very alike, Sam. I think I see myself in you, sometimes. That’s why we connect so well.”

Sam raised his head again and dared, “I left you, Lucifer.” Lucifer surged forwards again, but Sam threw up his hands, “No, wait, please! Just listen! If you really care about me, then listen.”

Lucifer stopped, but there was a spark of anger in his cold blue eyes, “You don’t know what you’re saying, Sam.”

Sam drew himself up, “You just don’t like what I’m saying. There’s a difference.”

“What has he done to you, Sam?”

“Gabriel? He hasn’t done shit, Lucifer. This is me. Remember how I left you? That was me. We don’t work together Lucifer, we just don’t. I’m sorry. What you’re doing, it isn’t helping.” Sam sat up a little further, drawing on this new reserve of strength he hadn’t known he had, “What we had is over. I’m telling you that the only thing you can do to make me happy is to never come near me or people I know again.”

“You don’t mean that, Sam,” Lucifer’s voice was flat, cold.

“I do.”

Lucifer smiled then, a serene, cold smile that made Sam’s insides freeze, “Are you sure about that, Sam?”

Sam pushed down the feeling that continuing was a massive mistake and looked Lucifer straight in the eye, “Yes.”

Lucifer’s voice was strangely high and calm, “Well then. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

Before Sam had a chance to react, Lucifer lunged for him, pinning Sam’s back to the floor and straddling his legs. Lucifer grabbed his wrists, pushing them into the floor cruelly. Sam struggled, afraid now, afraid of the sad look in Lucifer’s eyes.

“Lucifer! Lucifer, please don’t do this. Lucifer, please,” Sam arched his back and tried to kick, but Lucifer had always been stronger than him, despite being shorter.

“Now you beg me,” said Lucifer, “I’m sorry I didn’t see it before, Sam. You’re too far gone.”

“Lucifer. . .”

“If I can’t have you, then no-one can.”

Sam thrashed and struggled as Lucifer pinned his wrists with one hand and with the other, drew a knife that had been concealed somewhere on his body. Lightning bolts of adrenaline and fear pulsed through Sam. This was it, he was going to die, he was going to die. Lucifer was going to slit his throat and he was going to bleed out onto his own tiles.

He closed his eyes, wanting to remember the feeling of Gabriel in his arms one last time, wanting to remember that feeling of peace and strength and warmth that he’d chased for so long. Just once more before he died.

No.

No.

NO.

Sam’s eyes flew open and he surged upwards, some last reserve of strength and adrenaline letting him break Lucifer’s hold on his wrists. The suddenness of the movement took Lucifer by surprise and he fell backwards, his head cracking against tiles. His body went limp, the knife clattering to the floor. Sam scrambled backwards, breathing heavily and watching Lucifer’s body for signs of movement. After a few minutes, after his heart rate had calmed down a little, he forced himself to move forwards, to check Lucifer’s pulse. Touching his neck made Sam’s skin crawl, but he was relieved to feel a heartbeat.

As if in a dream, he ran to his jacket and fetched his mobile. He ran back to where Lucifer lay, unable to leave him alone for fear that he would escape again and called Gabriel. He put his back against the wall and let himself sink down as he listened to the phone ring. Gabriel picked up on the third ring, “Sam?”

Sam forced himself to speak, “Lucifer’s here.”

Gabriel’s voice was urgent, “Here? He’s at your apartment? Sam, are you okay? What’s going on?”

Sam swallowed, “I knocked him out. He’s lying on the floor. I don’t know what to do.”

Gabriel was silent for a second, but when he spoke, his voice was calm, “Okay, Sam. I’m going to call this in and then I’m going to call you back. Officers will come to you and I’ll be on my way too, okay? Just sit tight for a minute and then I’ll call you right back.”

“Okay.”

Sam felt numb. He remembered Ash and Kevin. With a last fearful look at Lucifer, he went to check on them. They were each lying in their beds, still breathing. Once he was sure they were alive, he went back to the hall, where he sank down against the wall again and continued his watch over Lucifer.

True to his word, Gabriel called again and stayed on the phone with Sam, talking to him comfortingly until the police arrived. They moved around Sam, taking Lucifer away and paramedics checked Kevin and Ash over. Sam refused attention, just sitting still on the tile floor and listening to Gabriel’s voice.

“Sam. I’m here.”

Gabriel was standing in the doorway, his words echoing slightly through Sam’s phone. He stood still for a second, then hung up and ran to Sam, enveloping him in a massive hug, “Sam.”

Sam pulled Gabriel closer, marvelling at the fact that if he hadn’t fought back, he’d never have gotten to do this again, never have been able to hold Gabriel in his arms. The thought was singularly horrifying and he buried his face in Gabriel’s neck.

Gabriel made Sam let a paramedic see to his head wound. He argued with the Chief of Police on the phone, saying that questioning Sam could wait till morning and that he’d keep watch over him until then. Sam was grateful for that. He couldn’t face talking about what had happened, not while he was in this curiously numb, detached state. He felt that talking about it would bring him crashing back down to earth and he wasn’t quite ready for that. No, all he wanted to do was let Gabriel take him home and sleep.

  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  


Sam was doing so well. Pride in others came in different ways, but the most common is good action under difficult circumstances. And these were among the most difficult circumstances that Gabriel had ever encountered. He’d been a cop a long time, or at least, it felt like it, and he’d seen his fair share of broken people. 

Sam wasn’t broken.

Bent, maybe. Dented, hurting, upset. But not broken.

Sam moved in with Gabriel. It was a temporary thing for now, neither of them had mentioned it, it had just sort of happened, but Gabriel was perfectly happy with the arrangement. It meant he got to keep watch on Sam- God knows he had been through enough to make any normal person go insane- but the man seemed to be coping extraordinarily well. If anything, Lucifer finally being caught seemed to have lifted him. He still wouldn’t reveal the exact details of what Lucifer had said to him on that final night, but it sounded like Sam had found himself some closure.

Knocking out the guy that tortured you for months can do that.

Of course, there were still the nightmares and the scars, the occasional haunted look in Sam’s eyes that appeared when he stared at the same point for too long, but there was also a quiet resolve and purpose in everything that Sam did. There was also the love in his eyes when he played with Maxy and the preciousness of his touch when they lay in bed together.

He had spent a few days down at the station, telling the police everything that had happened, over and over with the patience of a saint. Gabriel had been beside him the whole time- not even police protocol could prevent him from being there for his boyfriend.

Sam had also been there when they questioned Lucifer.

Of course, he wasn’t in the actual room with Lucifer when they brought him in from the cells. No, Sam stood with Gabriel in the observation room behind the one-way glass, his hand gently, but firmly, gripping Gabriel’s hand. They already had all the evidence needed to bring a case against Lucifer, but the Chief of Police had wanted a confession to match and they needed to get one on tape to use in court. There were also some details on where he had obtained certain illegal guns and other objects found in his possession and how he had managed to elude the police for so long. These details seemed inconsequential to Gabriel and he knew that Sam would not be relaxed until the monster was firmly behind bars for several life sentences.

They brought Lucifer in handcuffed hand and foot, two officers flanking him and the third standing at the door. They attached his handcuffs to the table and stood silently behind him, waiting for Garth, who was sat opposite, his back to the one-way glass, to begin the questioning. Lucifer didn’t look at Garth, his eyes were looking at the glass as if he could see right through to where Sam and Gabriel stood. Garth continued sifting through his papers, supposedly to make Lucifer sweat. Lucifer wasn’t sweating, if anything he was relaxed. He practically lounged in his chair, a smirk hovering around the corners of his mouth. After a few minutes, he said, “This is a lot of trouble for one man.”

Garth looked up, “Well you’re a very dangerous man, Mr Morningstar.”

The smirk spread, “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I’ll take it as one anyway.”

“I have some questions for you, Mr Morningstar.”

“Call me Lucifer. We might as well be friends.”

Garth sighed, “Okay. Lucifer. I have some questions for you.”

“I want to see Sam.”

Beside him, Sam’s grip on Gabriel’s hand tightened.

Garth’s voice was firm, “That’s not going to happen.”

“Then I won’t answer your questions.”

“That’s not very reasonable.”

Lucifer leant back further in his chair, “Those are my terms though. I just want to see him one more time. Five minutes. Take it or leave it.”

“You’ll see him at the trial, Mr Morningstar, and that will be all.”

Lucifer smiled, “I know Sam. It won’t be.”

Garth started to put away his papers, “You’re sure that you won’t reconsider?”

“Yup.”

“Then this has been a waste of time. I’ll have you brought back to your cell.”

Lucifer leant forwards and put his elbows on the table, ice-cold eyes staring straight through the one-way glass. His voice was sing-song, “Sammy, I know you’re there. I know you’re watching.”

Gabriel snuck a look at Sam. He looked frozen, face pale. Gabriel squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“Sammy, I know you. What’s five minutes? You know how much I know, how much it’ll help them if I promise to answer their stupid questions. You know how much good it would do. I just want five minutes. That’s not so much, is it?”

Gabriel turned to Sam, “Don’t listen to him.”

“He does know a lot,” said Sam quietly, “And it would help to know how he managed to evade you for so long, not to mention the illegal guns.”

“Sam, no, you don’t have to do this.”

“It’s just five minutes. I can do five minutes.”

Gabriel shook his head, “Sam, no!”

Sam pulled his hand out of Gabriel’s grasp, “I have to. I have to face him. If I can’t face him now, I’ll never be able to.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and counted to ten, “Okay. You want me to come in with you?”

Sam smiled sadly, “I expect he’ll want to be alone. Stay here though? If I know you’re watching, I’ll feel safer.”

“I’ll be right here,” Gabriel hesitated, “Sam, are you sure about this?”

Sam looked sad, but certain, “I have to.”

In the interrogation room, Garth was making ready to leave. Gabriel watched, unhappy, as Sam entered the room. Garth rose to try and back him out but Sam held up a hand. His voice came through the speakers into the observation room, quiet and certain, “It’s okay, Garth. Just five minutes. You can wait outside, I’ll be fine.”

Gabriel didn’t miss the way Lucifer was staring at Sam like he was a piece of meat, watching him with a scary intensity as Sam took his seat opposite the killer. Gabriel wished that he could see Sam’s face, but all he had to go on was a set of tense shoulders to gauge whether Sam was okay or not.

Lucifer smiled, but his eyes remained cold, “Sam. I knew you’d come.”

Sam looked at his watch pointedly, “Your five minutes has started, Lucifer.”

Lucifer tilted his head to the side, “So cold, Sam, so cold.”

Sam’s voice was stony, “You have ruined my life. Yeah, I’m a little cold.”

“You think that?” Lucifer looked hurt for a second, “That’s not what I. . . Not what I meant at all.”

“Well, it’s what you did.”

Lucifer closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, “I wanted these five minutes for a reason, Sam. I want to apologise.”

“You’ve never done that before.”

A flash of anger went across Lucifer’s face but he controlled himself, “I’ve never tried to kill someone I love-”

Sam cut him off, “Don’t. Don’t say that.”

“That I love you?” Lucifer laughed hollowly, “That’s a fact, sweetpea.”

“You know I don’t love you.”

Lucifer’s fists clenched and Gabriel pressed himself a little closer to the glass. If that son-of-a-bitch made one move at Sam. . . But Lucifer seemed to deflate a little, “I know you don’t understand and that’s. . . That’s the way it is. I hope someday you’ll see things my way, Sammy.”

Sam let out a little humourless laugh, “You tried to kill me.”

“I was angry. You made me lose my temper. You made me do that.”

“Don’t,” said Sam, “Don’t turn this on me, not again.” 

Lucifer gave Sam a long hard look, “Seems like I’ve lost you this time. Pity.”

“You lost me a long time ago, Lucifer.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Sammy, but I know you still think about me. I know who you dream about, who you obsess over. I’m your obsession, just as you are mine.”

Gabriel saw Sam’s head turn to the side, saw his jaw flex. He put a hand against the glass, wishing that he could be in the room, hating having to leave Sam alone with this monster. When Sam spoke, his voice was low and angry, something Gabriel had never heard before, “You arrogant, psychopathic, murderous bastard. I don’t obsess over you, I’m not in love with you. Get over it, get over yourself. Maybe I loved you once, I won’t deny that. But you ruined it and I moved on. I moved on, Lucifer, and you couldn’t handle it. So yeah, maybe I think about you, maybe you haunt me, but not for the reasons you want. And eventually, that too will fade. You will fade. There will come a day, Lucifer, when I don’t think about you anymore. And I look forward to it.”

Lucifer was glaring at Sam with unhidden hatred, but there was something else behind it, a layer of pain that Gabriel could tell Sam was enjoying. The power balance in the room seemed to have shifted. Lucifer no longer held all the cards.

“I guess this means you won’t visit me in prison?” Lucifer attempted a tone of nonchalance, but the crack and waver in his voice betrayed him.

Sam stood up, “No. Your five minutes are up. Now answer the questions.”

He left the room, and Gabriel went out to meet him. As soon as Sam saw Gabriel, he seemed to crumple, falling into his boyfriend’s arms. Gabriel held him as best he could, but Sam’s rather significant height advantage made it a little difficult.

“Whoa there big guy,” Gabriel tried to sound light, but it wasn’t very convincing, “I don’t think we’re needed here anymore, unless you wanna stay?”

Sam looked back at the observation room door, “I think I’d rather leave.”

Gabriel nodded, “Let’s go home.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


* * * 

  
  
  
  
  


Lucifer had his trial and received several life sentences, unsurprisingly. Since his last meeting with Sam, he seemed just as cold and untouchable as ever, yet there was a slump to his shoulders and a defeat behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Gabriel would have felt bad for him if he wasn’t so evil. Gabriel’s scars were healing nicely- there’d be almost no sign of them in a few months, just a few white lines. Honestly, he didn’t really mind. He was lucky. Sam’s scars would be forever obvious, a constant reminder of his time with Lucifer. Gabriel did ask him about whether he’d consider surgery, or maybe a tattoo cover-up, but Sam had calmly pointed out that it probably wasn’t worth the time, money, effort or risk on procedures that might only scar him further.

Besides, he was using them for good now.

Sam had started speaking at local abuse survivor groups. At first, it had started when Gabriel had encouraged him to go and talk through his experiences with people who would be able to understand what he went through. (Try as he might, Gabriel knew he’d never truly understand what it was like to be under the spell of a monster like Lucifer.) Sam had been reluctant, but had gone along with Gabriel. Eventually, he’d started speaking and had found that he liked doing it. Not only did it get the entire episode into the open, but he found that he was quite good at helping other people. Sam’s puppy-dog eyes combined with his easy strength made it easy for people to talk to him.

There was always a moment of surprise when Sam opened his shirt and showed the group his scars. It was like people couldn’t believe that a man that tall, that strong, that smart could have had something like that happen to them. Gabriel thought that that was a load of bullshit, but it did mean that people in the groups found Sam particularly helpful. Because, if someone like Sam couldn’t save themselves, then it meant that it was okay that they couldn’t either. And although Gabriel resented that with every part of his being, he appreciated that if it was helping them accept what had happened and move on, then it was fine with him.

Besides, Sam seemed to find it fulfilling. He was happier than Gabriel had ever seen him and that was what was important to Gabriel.

Sam ended up formally moving in with Gabriel once Ash and Kevin decided that they were going to find a new place. It turned out that a madman breaking into your apartment, killing a policeman and knocking you out before terrorising your roommate, kinda made you want to move on. Ash said that the place had always had ‘bad vibes’.

They were moving quite slowly in their relationship, but both of them were happy about that. They’d been through quite an unusual set of trials in the early stages of the relationship and they were both pretty sure that that meant they worked well together, but they still wanted to take things at a slow pace until everything had settled down. That didn’t mean that Gabriel wasn’t falling in love with Sam a little more each day. Every morning, when the sun came in through the curtains, bathing the room in a muted yellow and he woke up beside Sam, he felt so lucky. Just having those precious minutes to watch Sam sleep, to watch the rise and fall of his chest, to have access to such a quiet, intimate moment was more fulfilling than Gabriel could ever have imagined.

They’d come through a lot of evil and hurt and darkness.

But they’d come out of it, together.

  
  


 

 


End file.
